Humans. MkII

dogs life

It occurs to me that when The Committee upstairs made humans they made one small but rather short-sighted mistake. They got rid of the tail. Now, I can see the logic in this, it gets caught in doors, it gets in the way of sitting down and clumsy clods can step on it, but I still think it was a mistake and here’s why.

I looked after a friend’s dog a while back and I never once had wonder if he was happy or sad, it was always obvious from his tail, was it wagging (thankfully usually always) or was it down betwixt his legs. And the thing about dogs and tails is, there’s no hiding emotions, there’s complete honestly all the time, you know if he’s pleased to see you or not, but with humans, well, we’ve become very adept at hiding our true feelings and I’m not sure this is always a good thing. I can see occasions when it is (particularly when dealing with children) but most of the time it’s not. A lot of people hide their true feeling, be it love, hate, irritation, fear, happy or sad and I wonder what kind of world we’d have if we could always tell the emotional state of those around us, if there was always truth in communication, like it was the most natural thing in the world (as it should be), dogs, cats, in fact most animals seem to get along fine with tails..

So I’d like to propose to the The Powers That Be that when we all blow ourselves to bits or a giant meteorite wipes out humans like the dinosaurs, that the next version has a tail and keeps it. Then there will be that honesty in communication; lovers, family, friends, politicians, we’ll be able to see instantly if they’re happy or sad, there won’t be any hiding of feelings. I realise that this will put everyone involved in the duster trade out of business because we’ll all have our own built-in duster but I think that’s a small price to pay for enhanced communication.

octopus

Actually, I’ve been thinking about this a bit more and have decided upon a few more improvements. I really don’t understand why we only have two arms and hands, I’d be much more productive with six or even eight arms …chat on the phone, use two keyboards at same time and scratch my bits all at the same time…and when it comes to rumpy-pumpy..well……….

Plus I’ve decided it would be really useful to have a USB port built in, this would make life simpler for a variety of ways, for starters I’d never lose my tunes, I’d just upload them into my noggin…and then files, documents, photos..all uploaded into my massive brain…but the really important function would be to connect to another person and have that complete connection, being able to communicate feeling and emotions completely without inaccurate words getting in the way…. and the icing on the cake, when I’m knackered I could just plug myself into a wall socket and recharge myself… win-win! You heard it here first God!

Happily Ever After

shrek--fiona,
Dear (probably very bored) reader,

Once upon a time in a very strange land called Singledom, there lived an ever so slightly green ogre. He wasn’t rich (or even particularly clever) but he was kind, decent, had a good heart and really, that’s all that mattered to him.

Long before making the big trek to the land called Singledom he lived in an extremely popular land called Marriagedom where he had many great adventures, escapades, near misses and the occasional pratfall because, if the truth be told, he was really quite a mischievous ogre.. Singledom was a fascinating land, full of other ogres (and some quite scary monsters, occasionally even he had quite a fright!). However, he had lived in the land called Singledom for more than ten years but even after all that time, he still hadn’t figured out the very strange ways there.. (yes, he really was quite dim..)

For starters, he checked out some of the inmates – oops sorry, I mean inhabitants passport photos and he was surprised at how different the photos were from the actual inhabitant. “I’ve put some weight on since that photo was taken” seemed to be a common refrain or “did I not mention my co-joined twin?”. In all fairness, it seems the male inhabitants of that land were very partial to the same behaviour too, one of his ogre friends went to meet her 6ft ‘athletic build’ ogre, it turns out he was 4ft and circular!

And then there were the natives who didn’t actually live there, they were illegal immigrants! (Big chief ogres Donald Trump and Nigel Farage nearly choked on their cornflakes and started building a wall!) They earnestly told him that they had full residential status but when he checked they actually lived in his old neighbourhood country the land called Marriagedom and had sneaked into the land called Singledom to see if the swamp was any greener!

The other thing the ogre found a bit difficult was the language barrier. He spoke English (well ok, maybe with quite a strong brogue but still recognisably English!) but over there it was a very curious version of English he wasn’t familiar with. For example, he didn’t understand AFAIK, CU, FWIW, SFLR, was it Welsh? And the really odd names like BigButts and Glitterfarts, he would never name his baby ogres that! Plus he found grammar rules seemed very loose, a small number of the natives didn’t seem to know the difference between there, they’re and their or your and you’re or to, too and two, and hadn’t a clue what an Oxford comma was (hint – you just passed one). Poor old ogre, he was a very confused ogre..

And then there was the idea of an actual date. In a previous land long before Marriagedom, in a small green swampy island, dating meant meeting up and spending time with the same lovely lady ogre, at least until they both decided they were flogging a dead horse (or a poor donkey!) but in Singledom they used an expression he had never come across before and it kind’a threw him. Apparently they would date lots of natives all at the same time! and then eventually settle on one by saying “Shall we date exclusively?” Well, he thought, that was very… ummm.. modern..

Oh poor old ogre, he found it hard to lose his old fashioned gentle-ogrely ways, it’s just the way he was brought up in his swamp. But in his heart of hearts he thought he’d spent long enough in the land called Singledom and figured it was time to move on. You see, there was this land far far far away called Happily Ever After and he’d heard lots of good reports about it. It was extremely popular and immigration could be challenging. There were many trials and tribulations to get there (and the TSA orges were real monsters!) but he thought it was really worth all the trouble and effort to get there. Despite all the lovely numerous advantages of the land called Singledom he decided he’d dilly-dallied there long enough and it was time to move on. And he hoped, in his heart of hearts, that maybe he could persuade an equally kind lady ogre to join him and together they could move to Happily Ever After..

37 Rules For Life.

assholes

1. Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.
2. Don’t worry about what people think, they don’t do it very often.
3. Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian anymore than standing in a garage makes you a car.
4. Artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity.
5. If you must choose between two evils, pick the one you’ve never tried before.
6. My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.
7. Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.
8. A person, who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person. (This is very important. Pay attention! It never fails.)
9. For every action, there is an equal and opposite government program.
10. If you look like your passport picture, you probably need the trip.
11. Bills travel through the mail at twice the speed of checks.
12. A conscience is what hurts when all of your other parts feel so good.
13. Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.
14. Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.
15. No man has ever been shot while doing the dishes.
16. A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand.
17. Middle age is when broadness of the mind and narrowness of the waist change places.
18. Opportunities always look bigger going than coming.
19. Junk is something you’ve kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.
20. There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.
21. Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognize a mistake when you make it again.
22. By the time you can make ends meet, they move the ends.
23. Thou shalt not weigh more than thy refrigerator.
24. Someone who thinks logically provides a nice contrast to the real world.
25. It ain’t the jeans that make your butt look fat.
26. If you had to identify, in 1 word, the reason why the human race has not achieved, & never will achieve, its full potential, that word would be “meetings.”
27. There is a very fine line between “hobby” and “mental illness.”
28. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.
29. You should not confuse your career with your life.
30. Nobody cares if you can’t dance well. Just get up and dance.
31. Never lick a steak knife.
32. The most destructive force in the universe is gossip.
33. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight savings time.
34. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she’s pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.
35. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age eleven.
36. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that, deep down inside, we ALL believe that we are above average drivers.
37. Your friends love you anyway.

Darwinism Disproven

photo

I think it’s time for me to collect yet another Nobel Prize as I have come up with final proof that Darwinism – whilst a lovely logical notion – is complete bollocks. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I’ve come to realise that natural selection has a very obvious fatal flaw – or maybe that should be paw..

You see, according to natural selection the male of the species should get more colourful with each passing generation to attract the female of the species and pass on his genetic code. If one looks at the peacock then this would seem the obvious answer, the hen is plain but the male has developed this amazing fan tail of feathers and this is repeated across the bird kingdom, the only exception is the eclectus parrot where the female is multi-coloured but the male is plain green.

So, that seems simple and straight forward enough. But there’s a problem with that theory. You see, if that was the case then most human males would look remarkably more like little furry puppies with each passing generation.

Perhaps I should explain. I’ve doggie-sat occasional for friends and taken dogs for nice long walks in the park and without exception the female of our species will always come over and talk to the doggie and even stroke it’s tum if given half a chance. They pretty much ignore me but the mutt get’s them coo-ing endlessly. Ironically, puppies are like female cat-nip.a502e7d5-ecb5-483e-98c5-da4a81861b45

So, according to natural selection men should be by now at least a little bit furry, have big shiny eyes, floppy ears, a wet nose and pant a lot. Now I know that some men are heading that way, I pant a lot when I see an attractive woman and the urge to hump her leg doggie style is almost overwhelming but I resist the urge. One of my friends is indeed very hairy – his wife says it’s like sleeping with a Werewolf, but generally looking around at the male of the species I think it’s never going to happen, I seriously doubt that a million generations down the line that we’re all going to look like Scooby Do.

I wonder when I can collect my Nobel Prize?

It’s more than just a car..

amadog

An unlucky lady drove into my parked car last week, mine and the car behind it. She was distracted, lost control and bashed into my car and then the car behind me at some speed. Fortunately she was totally unharmed, just shocked but all three cars were totally wrecks.The insurance man came, took one look at my wreck and said it was uneconomical to repair, it would be scrapped.

Now, here’s the thing. I’ve had that car for a few years now and it’s never let me down, it always started first time, everything works as it should (or did!) and I’ve travelled all over the country in it. It’s the most reliable car I’ve ever had. And now it’s going to be scrapped.

We men shouldn’t get attached to lumps of metal but here’s what it feels like. It feels like I’ve had a faithful dog, one that I’ve had for many a year, it’s been totally faithful, it’s never bit me, it’s never even peed on the carpet. It’s never refused to go for a walk and has been 100% obedient and loyal.

And then last Saturday morning it was sitting outside, completely minding it’s own business and a stranger came along and carelessly stepped on it’s paw and broke it. Completely at random, wrong place, wrong time. And then the vet has come along and said “Nope, I’m afraid I have to put him to sleep..”. And I protest but the vet says “it’s OK, you can get another one exactly like that..” but that just feels wrong, this dog never bite me, was innocently minding it’s own business and completely faultless but still it has to be put down. I looked at the car and it looked back with it’s big doleful eyes that said “what happened, I don’t understand???”

I feel bad for him. I’m not sure if cars have souls but if mine does then I hope he’s racing around some race track in heaven enjoying himself and having a ball. He was my best car ever.

Nobel Prize #3

Extra body anyone?
Extra body anyone?

It looks like I’m up for my third Nobel Prize for Science; I don’t know WHY I didn’t figure this out sooner!

Ladies, do you use shampoo in the shower? Well when I wash my hair, the shampoo runs down my whole body, and printed very clearly on the shampoo label is this warning,

“FOR EXTRA VOLUME AND BODY.”

…No wonder I’ve been gaining weight!

Facepalm!

Well! I have gotten rid of that shampoo and I am going to start showering with Jif scouring cream instead, its label reads,

“DISSOLVES FAT THAT IS OTHERWISE DIFFICULT TO REMOVE.”

There, problem solved. You can thank me now. I wonder when I will get my Nobel Prize?

Doris McKee

dscf0100

My mother Doris passed away suddenly last week so I thought I’d pen a few thoughts. The over-riding thing I remember about Doris is her determination to do things her own way and sod the rules. The Doris I knew was completely unflappable, she played by her own rules whilst on this earth, she never worried much about what others thought of her.

The rules are that when you’re in your 80’s you should be settling down for a quieter life but not Doris (and Bob!), off they went to Australia to a wedding and of course there was a freak heatwave there and even the natives were falling to the ground with the heat but not Doris and Bob.

She spent a few weeks travelling around in the sweltering heat and then came back to a bitterly cold Ballymoney winter with frozen pipes burst in the home and the place a mess. I talked to her at the time and asked her if she was all right and she said ‘oh aye, sure, I’ve got Bob, that’s all that matters’ and it’s true, she had Bob by her side and that was the most important thing in her life.

Having a medical background I flew over here last week to make sure that she got through her operation and past the danger-zone of the weekend however instead of finding Doris comatosed in Intensive Care I found her sitting out watching X Factor on Saturday evening. This was 24 hrs after a major op.

She was bright and sparkly and completely on the ball.

The rules are that when you’re on ITU you’re meant to be really sick but as usual Doris played by her own rules. The rules also state that when you’re 88 and just past a major operation you’re meant to be a bit fuzzy – but not Doris, she was able to tell me my mobile number quick as a flash on Saturday evening – something even I have difficulty remembering..

On Thursday evening, the night before her op I had a quick chat in private with her, I told her that she wasn’t allowed to die, that it didn’t fit in with my timetable, that it wouldn’t be very convenient – I told her that perhaps…. PERHAPS when I’m 65 and retired and she’s 100 then PERHAPS it would be OK then…

She roared with laughter and said that she’ll go when the man upstairs says it time and that’s the end of it!

Our last chat was an interesting one, we were talking about church and religion and she was trying to get me to go to church (as usual), lots of talk about Jesus, God and heaven and I remember holding her hand and telling her that I tried to be good not because I wanted to get into heaven and not because I didn’t want to go to hell but because it’s the right thing to do, our motivation shouldn’t be the next world but trying to do our best for this world.. She looked at me and I knew she was OK with that and the subject wouldn’t come up again.

For 32,120 days Doris walked, strode, ran, swam, leaped, crawled and sometimes stumbled on this Earth. Not all of them days were good, some very hard, some were bad, some were a real struggle but in all the time I knew Doris I never saw her without a smile on her face.

And she told me that the last 2,258 days were the best because those where the days that she had been married to Bob.

Men brains verses women’s brains

emptybox

Men’s brains and women’s brains are very different from each other.

First, I want to start with men’s brains. Men’s brains are very unique. Men’s brains are made up of little boxes. Most women don’t realize that we have a box for everything. We’ve got a box for the car. We’ve got a box for the money. We’ve got a box for the job. We’ve got a box for you. We’ve got a box for the kids. We’ve got a box for your mother somewhere in the basement.

We’ve got boxes everywhere. And the rule is: the boxes don’t touch. When a man discusses a particular subject, we go to that particular box, we pull that box out, we open the box, and we discuss only what is in THAT BOX. And then we close the box and put it away being very, very careful not to touch other boxes.

Now women’s brains are very, very different from men’s brains. Women’s brains are made up of a big ball of wire. And everything is connected to everything. The money is connected to the car and the car is connected to your job and your kids are connected to your mother and everything-is-all-connected. It’s like the internet superhighway, and it’s all driven by energy that we call emotion. It’s one of the reasons why women tend to remember…everything.

Because if you take an event and you connect it to an emotion it burns in your memory and you can remember it forever. The same thing happens for men. It just doesn’t happen very often, because quite frankly…we don’t care. Women tend to care about everything. And she just loves it.

Now men, we have a box in our brain that most women are not aware of. This particular box has nothing in it. In fact, we call it the #nothing box.’ And of all the boxes a man has in his brain, the #nothing box’ is our favorite box. If a man has a chance, he’ll go to his nothing box every time. That’s why a man can do something seemingly completely brain dead for hours on end. You know, like fishing.

Now they’ve actually measured this. The University of Pennsylvania a couple of years ago did a study and discovered that men have the ability to think about absolutely nothing, and still breathe.

Women can’t do it. Their mind has never stopped. And they don’t understand the #nothing box’, and it drives them CRAZY because nothing drives a woman more crazy and makes them feel more irritated than to watch a man. Doing. Nothing.

Superheroes

superhero
When we were kids my gang and I used to play superheroes…like we were the only ones who could (and always did) save the world. This was way before the emergence of that strange new fangled interwebby thang, we had to use that other older system…now what was it called…oh yes – imagination…

We all wanted to be the hero, no-one wanted to be the villains so most of our villains were imaginary and if the worse came to worse we’d get shot/stabbed/arrowed/ray gunned/blasted/poisoned/disembowelled/nuked/pushed off a cliff  (always our choice) but have an heroic death – and our heroic deaths tended to last even longer than Hollywood heroic deaths which is saying something..

Advertisements at the time always showed rugged good looking heroic men rushing off to save someone life…Gillette Razors were masters at the genre and we would try to emulate them – even if we were too young to shave!

However, as I’ve got older I come to realise that Gillette and our gang didn’t have the hero market cornered, I’ve come across many examples of heroic people, the unknown heroes, the quiet heroes, the forgotten heroes who work away, slave away without thanks or recognition, simply getting on with the job as there was no-one else to do it and because of love.

I know a few mothers, struggling away to make ends meet, doing their best to keep a roof over the head of the children and just trying to do the right thing, trying to provide and be there when lesser souls would have given up the struggle..these are the real heroes in the world today, not me with my bedsheet for a cape and a stick for a raygun..although I have saved the planet from Vogons more times than I care to mention…pesky Vogns…getting grabbed by the Vogons always brought a tear to my eye…

People always think of doctors and nurses as being heroes too and to a degree it’s true but it doesn’t end there, I’ve cared for many patients were the wife (always the wife) cared for her long suffering husband through the many stages of cancer right up to the very end. And when I come across souls like that I always think wow, you’ve struggled all these years, many more hours than a full time job and no complaints, no cutting corners, no bitterness because it’s all done out of love.. real heroes..

But a lot of times the even bigger hero is missed, it’s the person with the cancer. By the time one gets past fifty one tends to know at least a few people that have passed over due to cancer and it’s these people that are the real superheroes. The souls I’ve known that have succumbed to cancer, they’ve always been very stoic, no raging against the unfairness of it all, no shouting at fate and God, no destructive benders, usually it’s quiet acceptance with lots of dignity, very quickly an acceptance of how things are going to be followed by trying to get as much living done in the so so so short time remaining. For me these are the biggest heroes, not the one’s on the cinema screen in 2D but the real life heroes, the souls that manage to open their eyes one more morning, even if it’s just for one more day.

To misquote Mr Bowie, we can all be heroes..even if it’s just for one more day…